


Hanky Panky

by necroglitz



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, PWP, Spanking, Sub James T. Kirk, alien dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necroglitz/pseuds/necroglitz
Summary: Jim begins a habit of slapping Spock’s ass whenever possible. Spock decides he’s had enough of it on the fifth day, and gives Jim a piece of his mind.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 23
Kudos: 267





	Hanky Panky

**Author's Note:**

> because of Madonna’s song “Hanky Panky” :)
> 
> dont take this fic seriously its just crack porn

It had originated as something Spock had assumed was a human joke, most likely shared between Dr. McCoy and Jim. Spock was at his station, studying scanning readings from a nearby planet as ordered by the Captain when Jim approached the Vulcan from behind. Of course, there was nothing strange about Kirk coming to check up on his status, but Spock wasn’t prepared to feel the other’s hand on his ass, nor the light slap that followed.

Spock turned around to face his Captain, to make sense out of his peculiar action, but he was already walking back to his chair. The science officer furrowed his thin brows, but he couldn’t shrug it off. He was confused-- bewildered, even-- but also… intrigued. Intrigued as to why Kirk felt compelled to slap him, and why the tingling sensation lingered for as long as it did. 

The second time it happened, they had passed each other in the corridor when Kirk’s palm met with Spock’s ass. The Vulcan jumped, but once again, Jim was gone before he could question him. He grumbled under his breath, straightened his back, and continued to his destination. The slap was harder than it was the first time, more force and more _hand_ went into it. Even though it hurt, in a way, Spock found he was bothered by it for other reasons he could not decipher.

As the days passed, Jim continued with his antics. Every time they passed in the corridor, Spock would have his ass slapped, each time harder than the last. By the fourth day, the sting of the slap would last for an hour, but… Spock discovered that it didn’t hurt as it should have, or as much as Spock expected. He wasn’t one to allow himself uncouth and crude thoughts, it wasn’t in his nature. But he could have sworn the slaps Jim bestowed his behind with were arousing. They filled Spock with a sense of heat and desire, an impure craving to snatch Jim’s hand and shove him against a wall, just to watch as he stripped him of all command. Of course, Spock would not permit himself to act in such an aberrant manner. Jim would have him launched into the vacuum of space if he dared make a move on him.

However, there was a breaking point for everyone, Vulcans included. 

It had been five days since the first slap. They were on the bridge, Spock beside Kirk at the Captain’s chair, both listening to Chekov’s ramblings (which were mainly directed at Sulu, the poor guy looked ready to fly the ship directly into an asteroid). Spock’s mind was elsewhere, primarily thinking of Jim, but his eyes diverted to the chattering helmsman so Jim couldn’t catch Spock mindlessly staring at him. It must have been a great distraction because he had no prior warning before a hand met with his ass in a loud, firm slap. The sound echoed in the bridge, Spock almost jumped out of his skin, and Jim began to laugh wildly, legs kicking at the air as he clutched his stomach.

Everyone was staring, most of them stifling laughs or just confused by the occurrence. 

Spock, on the other hand, had enough. He clasped his fingers around Jim’s wrist and ripped him out of his chair, hauling him to the elevator. There was little struggle from Kirk, surprisingly, but his laughter was beginning to sink into a nervous chuckle.

“Spock?”

“Private quarters,” is all Spock found necessary to reply with, pulling Kirk into the elevator and down to deck 5. He did not release his grip on Jim’s wrist, but the Captain made no protest. His laughter had ceased, his eyebrows now furrowed in an indecipherable manner. Spock could not read his expression. He was either concerned, scared, interested or anticipating something. 

Once they reached the door to Spock’s quarters, the Vulcan practically threw him into the room, locking the door behind them.

Spock stood at the door for a moment, considering his plan of action. His heart was pounding. He didn’t want to feel strong emotions, but his moronic Captain and his beautiful face had pushed him off the rails. Kirk was staring at him, frozen in place, his chest heaving but his breaths quiet, though, in no way could Spock say he was scared. _Why is he so nonchalant? I just forcibly threw him into my private quarters!_

“Spock,” he said again, however, this time around, his tone was much softer. He sounded like he was asking for something, rather than simply stating the Vulcan’s name. He was waiting for something, _craving something._

Spock stepped forward, then launched himself at Kirk, grabbing his shoulders and walking him backwards until the back of his knees met with the edge of the desk. Spock turned him around and shoved his chest against the surface of the desk, feeling a spark of heat at the sound of Kirk’s surprised yelp.

He raised his hand, took a deep breath, and with the most force he could apply without breaking Kirk’s tailbone, delivered the loudest, hardest slap across Jim’s ass.

To say the least, Spock was not expecting the moan of _pleasure_ that erupted from Kirk. It was like Spock had opened the flood gates, but instead, the only thing the gate was holding at bay was the Captain’s masochism kink.

There was a period of silence, other than Jim’s heavy breathing. Even as Spock backed off, Jim did not move from the desk.

“Spock,” he groaned, lifting himself slightly with his forearms. He shook his ass in the air, and without even seeing his face, Spock knew he was wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t just leave me here. Take my pants off and do it properly.”

Spock swore his soul left his body. “Sir?”

“There’s no need for formalities,” Jim said impatiently. “Hurry up, we don’t have all day.”

There was no other way to read the situation. Spock was given permission to rail his Captain. Obviously, he was not going to miss the opportunity. It was only logical that he followed Jim’s orders, even if they were in fact, _‘Fuck me, Spock’._

The Vulcan made quick work of Jim’s pants and briefs, hooking a long finger under the waistline of both garments and slipping them down his legs. He felt his own dick twitch at the sight of Jim’s bare ass, swallowing down a knot in his throat. He placed his palm against his cheek, squeezing and massaging his thumb into the soft flesh. Unsurprisingly, he had a plump behind, much like his belly. Spock squeezed his ass before raising his hand and delivering another hard slap across it, eliciting a wail of bliss from the man beneath him. He began to rut his erection against the desk, moaning desperately for friction.

Spock knew Jim was a bit of a whore, but not like this. Nothing even close to this bizarre turn of events.

“Jim, I have never partaken in sexual acts with another male,” Spock admitted, unsure whether Jim was comfortable with the said fact.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, Spock,” Jim said, amused. “But you are allowed to stop. I’m not ordering you to screw me.”

“I have no intention of putting a stop to this. And I believe you are currently in no position to command me.”

“What‘s that supposed to mean?”

Spock spanked his ass again, his lips curling at the sound of his helpless captain.

“I mean, _captain_ , you have no power in this room. You are under my command. Is that understood?”

Jim arched his back, groaning hoarsely. “ _Yes_. Yes, Spock.”

“Good,” Spock snarled. He pressed his thumb between Jim’s plump cheeks, spreading them. He wasn’t educated in the field of sex, but he could make some assumptions. He teased the tight ring of muscle to hear Jim’s reactions. The man bucked against the desk again, grunting. Spock assumed he was doing something right and pushed the finger into his hole. After a few seconds, he pushed another finger in, curling them both and earning a curt and loud moan from Kirk. He scissored his fingers before adding a third finger, stretching Jim’s hole to a suitable degree. 

He pulled his fingers out and pulled his pants down below his hips, allowing his painfully erect cock to escape from where it was hidden. Jim turned his head at the sound of Spock’s pants rustling, his eyes wide as he saw Spock’s member. Of course, Spock had no normal penis. He was an alien. In human terms, his dick was snake-like, curled like a cobra ready to strike. It was double-ridged, green, and dripping wet because of its self-lubricant gift.

“Holy shit,” Jim choked.

Spock gave his dick a stroke. At the touch, it became stiffer. 

“Indeed.” He pressed himself against Jim’s ass and pushed in, growling at the tight pressure around his cock as he engulfed himself in his captain. His cock stiffened further as he began to pull back and thrust in again, a sensation of ecstasy filling his mind as Jim moaned with his thrusts. 

Spock leaned down and planted his hands beside Kirk, quickening the pace of his hips as he rammed himself into him. The insertion was slick and wet, but Jim still seemed unsatisfied.

“Spock, fuck, _deeper._ Fuck me as hard as you can!” He moaned desperately, balling his hands into fists.

Complying with his needy, slutty captain, Spock pushed his entire length into Jim with a single, powerful thrust. According to Kirk’s abrupt gasp of pleasure, whatever Spock was doing was hitting the right spot. The carnal thrusting lasted a minute until Spock reached his climax. His hips faltered as he came, bliss blinding his senses. A few more thrusts and Jim unloaded with a long moan, his tense muscles falling limp onto the desk.

“You said you were a virgin?” Jim said after a period of silence, coughing out a breathless laugh.

Spock pulled himself out, releasing a gratified sigh. “Affirmative.”

“Well, you don’t fuck like one.” Jim flipped onto his back, gazing up at his science officer. “You look sexy with your hair like that.”

“What?”

“It’s all sweaty and messy. I like it.” Jim smiled, sitting up and placing a kiss on Spock’s lips. The Vulcan’s heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, I see. You too look… sexy, when your hair is messy.”

Jim laughed. “Dork.” He kissed him again, and Spock returned it.


End file.
